The Optimist and the Dreamer – Short fiction

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Some of us live the ordinary life..,While some of us dream and create a world within a world to live in…and that’s okay.., nobody is spared quite really.., none can escape the dreariness of life or her sordid despair.., Hanka was such a girl.., she always did what was asked of her.., she fought through the ugliness of life.., studied hard.., learned to not pay heed to the ugly stares.., learned to escape the tyranny of a toxic realm.. Did things the right way.., Followed God.., lived life with faith.., obeyed in perfection what the Bible mandated.. Hanka was the type of person who went to heaven.., Hanka was the type of person who was promoted for her hard work.. Hanka was the type of person who put food on the table for her kids even if it meant waking up early for twenty years in a row.., Hanka was the type of person who looked out for people.., she did not befriend.., she helped.., managed professional duties with ease.., looked after a family.., She lived by the book.., perfected the system and was fruitful.., blessed and hope filled. For her faith was more than just feeling.., it was something to live upto despite the struggles, the wrestles and the down falls. She knew what faith promised and she walked towards that with unswerving hope. Hanka was an emblem of hope.., She always got through whatever was bothering her.., she conformed because it was right, just and demanded from the Bible. Hanka believed in rules and did not offer grace without believing that the person would someday change. But hanka had a huge heart.., she dealt compassionately with those who were poor.., sick.., hurt and down.., Hanka was just the type of person who believed that doing things the right way meant that it was more loving.., more better and wasn’t it what the Lord desired..? Hanka always spent her money on buying stuff for her family.., she came second.., she loved it more to help others. Hanka was always forgotten.., though she went to great lengths to buy stuff for other people…, to do extravagant things for other people.., she was always treated like she was ordinary.., like the things that she was doing for other people did not change their hearts. But Hanka strived forward.., hurt but bold.., determined to do what had been required of her from the start by a mysterious God who was everywhere but appeared like he was nowhere to be found.

Saul was the type of person who wondered whose side God was on in a personal conflict. Saul was the type of person who stayed awake in order to feel inspiration.., Saul was the type of person who stayed awake because he wished to be closer to his inner voice.., to what he could remember of his deepest and most soulful longings.. Saul was the type of person who felt that the sky was an imitation of inner feelings.., Saul was the type of person who struggled with apologies since he did not wish a repeat of what had been done.., Saul was the kind who deeply understood the horrendous unpleasantness of everything.., he knew that people were homeless.., he knew that the girls who had left boyfriends married somebody different and ended up becoming more happy.., Saul also knew that he could not change anything.., He could never change people’s evil that resided deep in their hearts and cunningly deceived them much like the Serpent at Eden’s Garden.., he knew that people were always going to be poor.., he knew that chickens would be slaughtered for meat.., he knew that girls would be trafficked for prostitution.., he knew that animals in the jungle would be killed.., he knew that some were going to be abused.., raped.., molested.., hurt.., wounded.., bullied.., murdered…, hated for the color of their skin.., he knew that people were guilty of not being courageous enough to challenge the norms and moods of their time.., whatever the times were defined by people imitated and reflected.., he knew that people from the slums could never escape the cruelty of their upbringing.., he knew that people would be discriminated.. he knew these things because he could see deep into the heart of the world and see it’s lost state.., He was not just a dreamer.., he dreamt of better living conditions for everybody.., he dreamt of a world without poverty.., he dreamt of a world without hell.., He dreamt of a world without sin.., He dreamt of a world filled with meaning.., but sometimes Saul dreamt of other things.. of darkness.., He dreamt of never existing.., He dreamt sometimes of being the only conscious person in a world filled with robots.., He sometimes looked at himself in a mirror that he had a face.., a body and that people outside judged him based on how he spoke, acted and interacted with that body. Saul was the kind of person who had been hurt by love but still believed in it and attempted to control it because he did not wish to appear sappy, emotional and delusional. Saul had a soft soul.., he struggled to accept the blessings of his life because others seemed more vulnerable to the world’s beatings. Saul struggled to live.., he struggled to obey God.., He struggled to believe because each day he felt the attack of a world intent on breaking him apart.., Saul struggled with lust.., with greed.., with pride.., he struggled to commit fully to the Bible since sometimes he felt that it made a person too righteous that they forgot their weakness that made them love more deeply. Saul knew in his heart that the Bible was true.., he knew it with absolute conviction.., but he had never been a lover of rules.., he wanted to discover what made life tick.., setting the rules would mean that life became dull, uninspiring and too stable.., he wished to live in the way that he wanted to.., He wanted to be in control of his life. He was a free-spirit and he enjoyed freedom.

Saul did not look at things as right and wrong.., he did not appreciate the power of being right all the time since he believed in empathy more than righteousness which was a controversial stance to take since his views and opinions were laughed at and mocked by the religious of his day. Saul also believed that nobody would catch him if he were to fall.., he knew that nobody was running behind him.., nobody would desire him and if they did.. the moment they understood him they would leave.. Saul understood too that his own inner need to prove things to people sometimes broke and he succumbed to what made life easier since he couldn’t bear the pain of loneliness and also did not wish to bring pain to himself that others would talk about. Saul did not like it when anybody told him what to do.., because he believed that they didn’t understand what he was feeling on the inside., Saul was led by an intense spirit within himself, he did not like to discover weaknesses within himself.. they made him feel dejected, wounded and sad.., he wished to burst forward like a sparkling meteor on a black, silken night. Saul felt hurt that life had expectations on him.., that he would be audited for what he had done in his life.., and he couldn’t ever talk himself out of it.., No …Saul felt trapped in a world where everything was fixed in stone and he was stuck in it.

Too Real – Poem

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The problem that I face with the world
is that everything is too real and I am too soft..!
I believe in the absolute best despite facing a lifetime of evil, hurt and angst..,
My scars have deep wisdom.., but my heart has deeper innocence..,
A few days ago.., a girl who had dumped a guy was hacked to death by the guy she left.., no happy endings.., no background theme music.., just real evil happeing in a place used to daily routine and crowds.., what an ugly violent manifestation..,
A day before that murder.., she was alive.., happy.., possibly dreaming about clearing off the debt for her parents with her I.T. job.., but now she has become a tormented face that reminds people of cruelty…,
Will people remember her in the same way …?
We walk past homeless souls whose entire lives have been one big agony and we don’t flinch or even feel their pain..?
How cruel are we..? Do we realize that we are going to be asked such questions by the Lord at Judgment..?
I wonder if demons rejoiced at another lost soul lost to eternity..?
I wonder if the killer thought things through, I wonder if he saw past his own hurt..? Why dear Lord are we possessed of a will that exists only to bring ruin and shame unto us..?
How can you unsee such an atrocity..? how do you find the words for such a tragedy..?
What are you supposed to do when this is the routine in the world I feel, see and live..?
How can happiness be preached when death, cruelty, pain and suffering are all I see..?
But i’m not complaining.., I survived my suicide.., I experienced a hand reaching out to me from the supernatural realm and save a routine fatality..,
but still I am a healer in a world deeply at unease with the forces of brutality and discouragement..,
Each day I am haunted by what I see.., the more others don’t have… the more at unease I feel.
I can’t sleep.., the human soul is at unease and rushes into evil, murderous lust and wickedness.., I pray.., I am always acutely aware of the unrest.., of the living shadowy beings …, I am always aware that something is always at work around me.., my sensitivity feeds my inner life with what my natural eyes can’t ever see…,
I pray for my town regularly.., I pray for souls to know the truth that can set them free.., I pray for Angelic protection for my brethren living in places infested with hate.., thievery and fear.., I pray for natural man to encounter the spiritual force of Christ.., I pray for eyes to see.., for ears to hear and for hearts to feel God..,
I dream sometimes that God will save us all.., I dream sometimes that I can build a shelter for homeless dogs.., I dream someday that the Church that I build will shelter homeless people in the night.
I dream sometimes that Hell will become empty.., It’s real sad to know the fate of the world.., Friends you still have a life.., seek the truths of Jesus and be absolutely sure in your conviction of Him if you are going to reject Him.., Narrow is the path that leads to life and few there are that find it.

Confessions: Lost chances( Short fiction)

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‘ Is it your fault.., or was it mine..? Whom do I blame for this sorrow..?’
– Translated from a tamil song

The basketball court grew translucently vacant after eleven in September… September made you feel different in the city.., as a watcher of people I pick up on a lot, all cities have the same traffic.., the same zone defense of public roads.., the same feisty cops pulling up bikers with helmets…, but God has different layers to each month.., the trees lose more leaves.., there are a lot more winds.., the waves of marina are are more lustful of the shore.., loneliness is much deeper in the underground caves.., and the antisocial appears every now and then when things grow still after the din grows low… A man who knew loneliness sat here often hoping to absorb the energy of sane souls, I knew him as well although he and I don’t really talk much.. I get the sense that the world that he occupies does not allow entry of people who talked.., he was a sad soul.., lost to a world that was indifferent to his plight.., unkind to his homelessness and harsh to his presence.., can’t really blame him.., but I wanted him to pour his soul into mine and feel my warming fire.., I was not exactly normal either.., I was a misfit myself.., a loner who preferred a ball and an empty court to people… Friends in my life were people whom I knew but who never knew me.., I was too deep to be understood, I was too distracted by the world to conform to their demands and expectations which seemed silly and childish in my eyes.., I was a man who knew things before they happened and who saw things before they were perceived.., I was whatever place I absorbed and I was whoever people wished me to be. The Park drew in folks.., the park did not catch your attention immediately, you would pass it by and it would not invoke any sensation.., it was bare, plain and possessed no juicy vibe.., like a plain woman you passed her by.., and then you encounter them and you begin to know them and you get the sense that you were guilty of perhaps discrimination but you’re safe since it happened in the secretive layers of your mind…. but this park was where I in all of Madras city found myself drawn to.. Perhaps this would be my own dream theater of performance.., where I can be the heroic motif that I pick in my day dreams.., where I create a legacy for my own knowledge but unseen and unrealized by those who frequent this same place as me.

There was always a buzz on the basketball court.., the eager to flaunt players held hostage by their domineering coach.., the visitors who sat on the stone galleries to ponder life’s mysteries.., the middle aged uncles who rested their vertebrae after a back breaking walk around the park to burn off calories.., shady cats whose eyes glinted with the spirit of marijuana and who scowled and mocked everybody that their eyes could see.., homeless drunks who argued loudly and later slept soundly in the top stair of the stone gallery.., local flower men who sold threaded jasmine buds to middle class city bred ‘Iyer’ ladies who slept on the hard stone floor.., Fatigued auto-rickshaw men resting after a tiring day…The court was my kingdom.., and I imagined myself to be the king of my court.., and it was my job to realize with the eyes of the heart the souls that walked through the court.. I would attempt stories from what I felt when my heart touched upon their souls.. I would also try to place each person with a song that I would spend hours searching for.., or perhaps crystallize them with a poem..By nature I am distant since I could care less about the formality of mere connectivity.. I could not understand why people had to spend so much time getting acquainted.., I know the bad ones.., they always try to make you love them and they always try to puff you up.., the rest are a mystery that requires patient chopping .., my mind is always afar since I alienate myself from the usual.., but there is a music to each soul that one can listen if one listens closely.., a hidden tale buried within each layer.., and I was determined to discern and navigate through the darkness of being.

He was one of those middle aged men who enjoyed mere banter. He had a charming and disarming way of engaging you.., He and I shared the same lonely space for quite a period of months, I wanted him to find it in himself to dare break the invisible walls that people erected around themselves.., He approached me with praise, a great conversation starter.., he wanted to understand why anybody would choose a public park to practice after 11.30.., a place well known for antisocial scum, insane marauding hooligans on bikes and bloodthirsty wanderers… I responded by saying that I could say the same about him to a certain extent.., A spark glowed in the darkness of that court which was a well-known magnet for unfinished tales.., broken hearts and restless souls… He would generally do his circular walks around the park with a distracted look, he found the practice difficult but he still kept at it.., he was from a small town deep in the south.., his language contained the soul of the town that he was from. The people there probably spoke from their heart.., lacked cunning and were delightful of people.., maybe they lacked the sophistication of deeper understanding.., for a brief while we clicked. Our souls are thirsty for as much of earth that we can find.., for in eternity our souls will suffer uncertain fates depending on our choices. I knew that a soul’s relation to the revelation of Jesus would decide one’s eternity.., but in the here and the now all souls starved and hungered for love and want.. They had a funny way of expressing it since immaterial realities kept pressing against their conscious shores…, but it was there and you had to learn to handle the bitter reality of people and their incapability of knowing their presence and their actions on another soul.

I am a chamber full of secrets.., many souls speak what besets their soul into my depths.., they share their hurts which are often painful realities that still torment their inmost minds..,I seem to inspire their openness.., and I seem to inspire them to enter into my inner stillness to phrase in fleeting lucidity their inmost torments which always found a way to confound their lingual capabilities.., for the moment they could find the perfect, most honest, most soulful and most heartfelt way of narrating their lives in his presence.., it would finally lift off and decrease in its intensity.

He remembered the first time he saw her.., he had known since he was 8…, it was not her eyes, her appearance or her behavior that he noticed…, he noticed instead how his heart fluttered when she walked past him oblivious to the nuclear damage that she was wreaking on his simple soul. Over a period of time the feelings became mutual…, he was 14 by then.., and she 13.., they held hands on the long mud paths surrounded by rice fields and sugar cane fields that led to their homes when nobody was watching.., he climbed trees to pluck mangoes for her and.., wrote her I love you hundred times… their love blossomed over the years.., he came from a conservative system.., multiple social walls stood in his way.., she was from another caste.., he belonged to another.., religion spoke about how he belonged higher.., but his heart could see no such reality.., his heart wanted her more intensely as the years progressed.., they promised each other multiple times that they would find each other no matter how far they got.., that the other would wait if something were to happen.., but as fate would have it education brought him to the chaotic city of Madras.., he would call her many times.., but there were no mobile phones back then.., the timing had to be perfect.., her Father owned a goods store and he would be out by 7 in the morning.., her mother was always at home.., but went at 2 pm to the temple for half an hour.., that would be their time.., even if her mother returned.., she would act as though the phone call was between her friends.., but one time her mother stayed back and long story short got wind of what was happening.., they beat her so bad that she swore to never contact him again.., but she was lying.., how can emotions such as love end in the face of adversity.., it is the very soil that it blooms and flourishes in.., he promised her that he would come back for her the moment he got a job.., but her parents got her married before he could make good on his promise.., marrying her off to some businessman…, heartbroken he wept, cried and wandered in sorrow and despair.., the years passed, he tried to forget her but to no avail.., how could someone forget someone who had inhabited his inmost being..? Who had loved him with a love all her own..? How could he overcome that which only made him linger.., stay and wander in a world of inner hurt..? He grieved like a man who knew not how to survive in a world devoid of his sweetheart.., he could not bear the thought of her in the arms of another man.., he could not bear another possessing her…, love was never meant to be shared by a third party.., Never.., His parents sensing his woe married him off to a proper Madras girl.., he hid his sorrow and began to live for his future.., family.., responsibility.., he had become so possessed by this intense hurt in his heart that he struggled to love his wife fully.., even though he had gotten over the deadly blow.., he could never forget his first love.., he shared this to me over a period of time and I listened as I always did like my life depended on it.., funny how strangers heal wounds that one’s own efforts seldom seem to. I know that the good Lord placed me on this planet to heal people, He did the healing.., I just had to reach out to the souls.., and I always could find them no matter how they hid their wounds.

I did my best to console him.., I spoke nothing .. there was nothing that I could say that would reach the inmost depths of him and pull him away from what he felt, I only listened and allowed my silence to do the healing.., I allowed my warmth to speak what I couldn’t.., what could I say..? I only felt myself grow sad.., there was a certain amount of sadness that this court seemed to attract…, I was a lost soul myself.., but I knew that Jesus healed.., you just had a sense for these things that was more than reason oriented.., I understood his moral reality.., He was married.., had kids in school and was a normal functioning member of society now.., but he would forever remember the lost chance.., and what could you do about it in this wild jungle..? Love more deeply..? Take more chances..? Marry for love..? I didn’t have a clue.., all I knew was that life moved on.., I had more souls to meet and more stories to glean. But what I encounter and see will always bleed within me.

The Artist within – A few thoughts

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I’m an artist… I repeat that word to myself constantly because I often feel the other way about it. You know , like maybe.. ‘I am not all that I proclaim myself to be’… type, My shyness like the striped butterflies that I obsessively chronicle and observe is self content and blissfully oblivious of the outside world… But as endearing as it is to feel that way it can get in the way of my assertiveness or lack thereof in plenty of social circumstances… , Password – Humble.. Code word accepted… Beast Mode activated.

I have this syndrome where I have multiple notepad documents open whenever I am typing out some grandiose though of mine that craves my artistic emotions. I write multiple stories sometimes, I get crazy and write off of instincts… I would be in a desperate infatuation oriented romedy in one place, and in the other I would be ranting about how Godfather’s director did no justice to the characters in the novel…, Except of course for the Characters of Vito Corleone, Sonny Corleone and Tom Hagen, now their acting and character inhabitation was tight… not to mention grand, delightful, imitation worthy and memorable. I wonder how they can act as people so different from their real life characters, actors do all kinds of things on stage and I often create a complex understanding of how they can go about doing such things and feats. Maybe there is a method to the madness, maybe it’s something that they learnt in acting school or maybe it is just the expression of a God given talent… Which creates my next fabulous question.., Why does my Favorite Supernatural Being gift individuals with talents to entertain that seems to attract them to the great Sodom and Babylon of this Millenium…? How come they tend to land up in Satanic worshipping, Glamor oozing, Free spirit engaging leading straight upto Hell’s finest Mansions – Hollyweird.. I’m sorry I meant Hollywood is something I will never now.. Welcome folks to Hollywood- The Greatest Entertainment show on Earth, Payment Needed.. Pay with your soul and please deposit your former and current moral ethics at the entrance please.. Now feel free to sell your soul to the Devil as he uses you to perform things that you promised you would never do, and do roles that you thought you would never enroll yourself in…! You still got hope.. , Yeah.. I know you routinely mock and scorn at Him and use Him as a cuss word in your glorious works of lies.. But His name is Jesus.. just call Him won’t ya.. when you’re not mimicking grand dialogues about self expression and discovering your hidden self.. Call Him when your ex who promised you that he would love you forever dumped you for somebody younger.., Call Him when your addicted to those shiny pills that made you forget the madness of Show business… You still got hope.

Great talents only create a more fonder love and affection within me for their Creator…, What a maddening, mystical and inscrutable Supernatural being my Heavenly Father is most of the times. I still have no earthly measure for the complex creativity prowess of the Universe’s Absolutely Greatest Artist… Yes, I mean God. What possessed the heart of the Universe to Create terrifying, tummy crawling Pythons who inspire only horror and terror.. and also create beautiful, winding rivers that cascade off as they plunge below hundreds of metres into an underlying pool of fresh water… It’s funny how water seems to always flow, seeking paths always…, Nature is so profoundly artistic and deep that I find myself always joyful and upbeat that there are still things that don’t destroy hope, sanity and mental wellbeing. I am thankful for it everyday and that’s why I try to sneak to my Garden or to the lonely Garden behind my Old Office and spend a few moments in solitude and get my deepest, inner nature into silence.. I drop a drop of prayer into the still lake and feel the ripples, the pages of my soul opened.. My true animal awakens and strolls outside of the cave.. Far away from my Masks, My Hectic life and My Restlessness… I need it desperately and deeply.

I have an intense urge to create, I often create complex stories from a single reaction. It’s like the words, the characters and the dialogues were in there all along, and all that it needed was this tiny, tender little spark and wala, out pours this magnificent piece of literary imagining that gives me the impression that it really, truly happened. I can’t still grasp much of the fine sensations of the human mind… , I find the human mind, the soul, the spirit and the heart fascinating topics and resources of study… I am always poking myself, trying to gain new insights about my inner philosophies and trying to plunge into the depths of my psyche…, The inner world, and the way in which it rearranges and deals with specific inputs is like a torch in the deepest caverns, I enjoy reliving my competitive moments where I bled, sweat and played with ferocity are replayed with narcissistic joy and I enjoy my own heroic glory… I promise to create more of such moments… I want to test myself more, challenge myself more… To see if I am capable of doing what seems so confidence draining, fear inducing and terror inspiring. I am an artist because I find art in life, I find art in relationships, I find art in the tragedies that happen to me.. Be it an unreturned affection from someone that I may have pined away for centuries, or be it a grumpy, bitter and intense conflict over something as stupid as a loose comment… I am alive in the deepest parts of me, I may not always recognize what I see in my heart or in my mind, or put a word to certain feelings that defy my vocabulary… but I am in love with the beauty of my life.. With my thoughts, with my faith and how it soars in the spiritual dimensions opened by God’s willing joy… I find more ground in being an artist now chiefly because of who I am in Christ… Alive by being soaked in the rivers of Jesus and having the joy to unravel what that means in my current life and geographical location- I am a citizen of the world in Christ – I am one of His Ambassadors, Free from who I always feared I could never be.., I am fine with who I am, of where I have ended up, and fine with what I have been given and asked to take care of.. I am not afraid anymore of getting people to accept, love or want me…I am cool with whatever they choose to give.. If it is blunt, rude, angry and bitter, misguided rage… I am okay with it.. I am here to listen.. to understand.. or if it tends to wound my spirit.. change, adapt, evolve and use it to guide me to a higher level of consciousness…, If it is not feeling the same intense way that I tend to feel when I impulsively jump into something that I may have the pleasure of encountering for a few fractions of a second…, I have come to accept that.. It is okay..It has helped me in my growth as an Artist who writes.., who observes, enjoys and delights in whatever God has allowed for that day… I try to find contentment with whatever little I have. The Simple life, with my love for gardens, lonely abandoned places lush with trees and understanding with Patience the words of the Bible… and Praying into levels, depths and dimensions that I have never experienced are more than I can ask for… This is me right now.. Dear Future me.. This temporary contentment will change in a minute, the world of the mind does not thrive on order, but on chaos and in creating an artifical reflection of the senselessness and hopelessness of this world in one’s soul, heart, mind and thoughts… But, I am a Fighter… A Warrior who kneels and a Watchman of my flock… I am alive and well.. Until Next Time.

Casual demolition

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Feelings deceive,
It would be better if a man could never feel,
Of what use are our feelings? 
Those who feel intensely are seldom seen..!
Life has a different plan altogether,
I wish my heart could stop and focus on more important things such as my Salvation, My life and what I plan to do about staying away from Hell.
But oh no,  I have to fall into what’s of no use for me, I have to fall for people who feel not a thing for me, I have to bear this pain, this breaking sensitive possession of my heart, brain and soul that invades the essence of moi’ , and begins controlling me by subjecting me to what can never be.
I hate feeling this way,
I hate being here again,
I hate being this way…  I am so sick of ending back in this place time and time again,
I’ve had enough, I’ve been through enough,
I know when I’m not needed, my mind is easy to convince,  it’s my heart that refuses to comply and stop feeling.
In some people’s life you are a speck, in some a short affair and in others a mistake, and in the majority of the cases….  a mere stranger intruding into what has already been constructed and is alive,
I hate this lack of control, I can’t stand this demolition of my heart’s repressed wishes,
Pain creates more poets than love ever did,
Suffering far greater writers than happiness ever did.
Please stop killing me with your irresistibleness, Please cut your ties with me it’s better that way.
I can’t feel differently about you… Believe me I’ve tried, and I don’t want to be some creep that was too desperate and too enthusiastic, yeah I know how that feels like.
This is not me… I’m a silent warrior, I’m at war within…  I don’t have time for this… I got dreams to fulfill, greatness to live upto, struggles to overcome.
As much as I would love for you to feel the same way about me… I hate to beg and I hate to ask when you’re madly in love with somebody else. That’s just plain wrong. I’ve been in this situation too many times before.
So thank you for the casual demolition, I much enjoyed it… My heart’s broken and my life’s at a standstill.
I am sorry I cared, forget it…  it’s much better for me to deal with my terrific wounds and bruises.
Thank you and please don’t visit again.

She Left Me – A Poem

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Who do I write this to..?

Who dares to listen and feel without Judgment..?

She belonged to the brats, the flamboyant and the self confident,

They took careful precautions to create worlds that contained drops

of the Western world and their raging, empowering ambitions,

I met her when I was just slowly discovering the wealth within myself,

Our paths crossed,

I felt that she was a bright, gleaming star, who inspired sighs and wishes,

She probably would look much better with someone Rich and Assertive,

With some Modern, Pseudo Socialite Appearing Indian with his own car

and an accent that spoke of a private education,

not with a Shy Dreamer who enjoyed the stars and climbed lonely mountains,

But for some reason I wanted her, I wanted to love her,

I wanted my heart to think only of her,

And she gave me mixed signals,

On some days it was I can’t get enough of you,

On others, it was.. Don’t get in my way.

But my life’s inward spaces seemed impoverished for a wealthy snob such as her,

I couldn’t fake her clique’s self assured enthusiasm, or promise her exotic getaways,

I could only promise her my love, poor as it may appear to be,

But she was too busy being the object of Men’s interests,

So I turned into the Great Gatsby and pined away for her,

I wrote her love poems,

I spoke to her through silence, I offered my soul when her anguish intensified,

I comforted her through my weirdness, I hugged her when she lied to protect her deceitfulness,

I enjoyed her moody snobbishness, her rudeness made her endearing,

I enjoyed her continual rejections which she lavished on me without reasons,

But still I was drastically different, I accepted her soul,

and not her body, her wealth or her outward beauty or her seeming intelligence,

and she loved me for it. But She did not know what to expect, Nobody had ever loved her like this.

She was used to being chased, worshiped and bowed down to,

I wanted to do nothing of that sort.

I despised false appearances, impressions and pride,

She thrived on what I despised.., but still I felt her drawn to me,

I was warm, she was cold,

I was shy, she was bold,

I was fearless and Blunt, She was Sharp and Fierce,

I despised her world, she found comfort in mine,

We met in sparks of passion but then she retreated away, fearful and defiant.

She wanted me, and I knew it.., but she wanted more.. She wanted me in a

fashion that suited her refined tastes and sophisticated meaninglessness.

I was never asked to make a choice, or given much notice.

She began to slowly pull away as the winds grew in power,

She did not understand a love that demanded everything,

She had not loved without comforts, pleasure and riches,

She had not loved someone for their heart,

She did not know a love that was sacrificing, enduring and generous,

I could see it in her eyes, in the way she leaned on me and yet made

me feel unwanted,

I could see it in her words, they were cutting and full of condescension,

I was being let off, there were no more late night phone calls,

No more cute messages with smileys and kissing animations,

I was no longer as desirable as she had thought.

Weren’t opposites supposed to attract…?

I had no claim on her, I could not hold her with memories of what had been,

She seemed to grow more and more far and oblivious,

I had been discarded, her use of me had ended,

I was being let off, fired, transferred, abandoned, forsaken.

I no longer meant anything to her,

I had been a brief brilliant glow of light in a shallow pool of darkness,

but now I was mere ashes,

I had been cast off, She had left me,

It stung, It hurt and It worsened day by day.

My sweet, fierce, snob left me and decided never

to associate with me ever again,

Why can’t happy endings happen in real life…?

Why can’t Wallflowers love Bright, Vibrant Damsels whose vigor was the intoxication of

the oppressed and the systematized…?

Why couldn’t She love me..?